Live and Let Die
by EchoResonance
Summary: She should never have survived. Not in her brother's stead. Now she bears his name, and all the burdens that accompany it. How much longer can she do this, before she breaks?


"Where is the brat?" Kohaku spat, kicking at a pile of sticks. Lucille frowned. He had gathered those as kindling for a fire.

"She went for a walk," said Gwindel blandly, setting down an armful of split wood.

"That kid's going to get herself killed," grumbled the short-tempered brunette.

Lucille sighed and stood, flicking a long lock of platinum blonde hair back over his shoulder. He stifled a yawn, and brushed off his dusty trousers. It was getting really late. Maybe someone should go look for Celes.

"I'll find her," said Lucille with a smile.

He always wore a smile. When he was angry, his lips curled up. When he was killing Guignols, his mouth curved. When he was sad, still he would smile. It was eternal, non-changing, like that of a doll. Like that of a Guignol. Celes had accused him of that very thing upon meeting him. Upon seeing his secret little smile that never went away, she had shouted—quite loudly, as well—that he was just like the Guignols.

It was eerie, but his traveling companions were used to it. They did and said nothing as he turned and walked off into the trees. They really couldn't care about what Lucille did. If he died, they would be free. To an extent. At any rate, they couldn't find it in themselves to worry about either him or Celes.

Lucille knew, as he walked away, that both Kohaku and Gwindel would love for him to disappear. For him to never come back. A small part of him regretted that that was how it had to be. However, the larger part of him reminded the small part that _that was how it had to be_. He couldn't have companions he cared about anymore, and he didn't want his companions to care for him either. It lead to nothing but death.

A soft sound made him pause. A whimper. A quiet sob.

"Celes?" he said quietly.

There was a rustling of leaves, as though someone was making hasty movements. He heard a loud, unattractive sniff. Or maybe it was more like a snort.

"Celes."

"What do you want, Lucille?"

Lucille plastered that smile back on his face, and moved in the direction of that voice. A few more steps, and he came across a small figure, sitting at the base of a tree with their knees pulled against their chest and tucked under their chin. Her eyes were tired and red, but the tear tracts that had undoubtedly been present had been wiped away from her round, doll like cheeks.

The chanteur crouched down in front of Celes, holding out a long, graceful hand. Everything about that man seemed graceful. Willowy. Feminine. And he was extremely feminine. His voice, his appearance, everything. There was so much reason for others to mistake him for a woman. It was easy for him to pretend. But then there were also moments when he proved that he could only be a man.

"Celes, why are you crying?" asked the man, reaching up to caress her cheek and catch another falling tear with his thumb.

She swatted his hand away and averted her gaze. His piercing eyes, sometimes blue, and other times darkened to violet, were too much for her.

"That's a stupid question, don't you think?" she grumbled.

"I don't think so," said Lucille with a shrug.

Celes snorted, but did not reply. With a heavy sigh, Lucille shifted so that he sat beside the small pianist. Smirking, the man's hand flicked up and caught Celes's hat, yanking it off of her head. She let out a cry of indignation and made to snatch it back, but Lucille held it out of her reach.

"Hey!" she snapped. Lucille chuckled.

"You can have it back," he said with that infuriating smile. "When you tell me the reason why you're crying."

"I'm not crying _now_," she pointed out, making another grab for the hat. He jerked it away from her.

"Why _were_ you crying then?" he amended, prodding her in the side with one of his fingers. She yelped and swiped at the offending hand.

Still, she didn't respond, and Lucille sighed. Switching the hat form his right hand to his left, he slid his right arm around her shoulders.

"You were thinking about your brother. Weren't you?"

He took Celes's silence, and her bowed head, as confirmation.

"Maybe…Celes, maybe it's time for you to you lay your brother to rest."

"Huh?" she said sharply, looking around at him.

"Hang up his name, and just be Celes. Be the girl that you are. Let him die. Let him go. Maybe then he'll forgive you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled.

Lucille's grip tightened around her, and slid to her waist. He turned and leaned his forehead against the girl's. Even in the dark, he could see her cheeks darken. She always blushed when he did little things like that.

"I think you do," he said, voice uncharacteristically gentle. "You know, sometimes, it's okay to let go."

"What do you know?" Celes demanded, her temper flaring. Startled, Lucille pulled away from her. "You don't know what I've been through! You don't know what it's like, having the death of your sibling on your head! Knowing it's your fault people you love are dead! No one ever listened. No one did anything but accuse me. _It's all your fault_, they said, and they were right! You have no idea what that's like!"

For a long time, Lucille didn't say anything. He sat by Celes in silence, his grip around her waist tightening until it was punishing. The girl flinched as his hold, trying to shy away from him, but she was trapped against his side.

"Don't know what it's like…" Lucille echoed finally. His voice was empty. "Don't know what it's like…?"

Abruptly, the singer stood. Celes felt the chill night air where her skin had been warmed from the physical contact, and goosebumps erupted down her arms and the back of her neck. She shivered. Lucille's long blonde hair spilled down over his back, all that Celes could see of him in that moment.

"I know more about it than you think, Celestite," he bit out, using her full name. He had rarely ever sounded so serious. So angry. "I know what it's like to cause the death of people you love. That's why I'm here now, trying to save my sister. My sister, who was turned into the Queen, into that dead doll, because of my actions. And it was with my own two hands that I killed every member of my old Orchestra. You know that. And you tell me that I don't know what it's like?"

"Lu—Lucille," Celes choked, realizing too late what a stupid thing it was that she had said. "I'm—"

"I know more than you give me credit for." Suddenly, as soft as a whisper. A broken murmur.

His hands were balled into trembling fists at his sides. His voice was imbibed with more emotion than Celes had ever yet heard from him. Celes stood slowly, wincing when a strong tingling sensation took hold of her foot. She reached out and wrapped one of her small, delicate hands around his wrist, sliding her fingers over his own. Trying to smooth his hand out of the white-knuckled ball. Gently she worked his fingers away from his palm, and laced hers through them.

"Lucille…I'm sorry," she said. "I know it's not adequate, but I am. I wasn't thinking. I—I was just upset, and…I'm sorry."

Lucille took a surprisingly shaky breath.

"So am I. I don't know what got into me just now. I can't…" he sighed and shook his head. "Nevermind."

"What?" Celes wondered.

"It's too easy for me to be myself when I'm around you," he admitted quietly.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a dangerous thing. And a…strange thing," he allowed, turning back to look at Celes.

His expression was slightly bemused as his fingers allowed themselves to curl with hers. However, his smirk quickly faded the longer he looked at her.

"What?" she said self-consciously.

"I mean it, Celes," he told her seriously. "It may be time for you to let him go."

Celes looked away, but Lucille's free hand caught her chin and turned her face toward his. His blue eyes, darkened to violet in the shadows of the night, held surprising compassion as they gazed at her. A lump began to rise in her throat. Her eyes started to sting. Without warning, she flung herself at Lucille, lashing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

A startled noise escaped from the back of Lucille's throat. Something like a low gasp. After a long, surprised moment, though, he hesitantly set his hands on her lower back, and rested his chin on the top of her head. Strands of her short russet hair tickled his nose, but he didn't move. He just stood there, holding her, while she sobbed incoherently into his chest, staining the front of his shirt with her tears.

"Celes…" he said soothingly. "It's okay to be sad. It's okay to miss him. But until you let him go, there's no way you'll heal."

"I c-can't!" Celes cried, voice muffled by both his shirt and her own tears. "I can't let him go!"

"Maybe not yet," Lucille conceded. "Maybe it's best if you don't just yet. But sooner or later, you have to."

"How?" she demanded. "When?"

"I'll tell you when I figure it out," he promised, still smiling slightly. "Celes?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Please, stop crying," he requested. "You're so much cuter when you smile."

A hot blush spread over Celes' cheeks, and felt her lips twitch upward just a little of their own accord. By degrees, she managed to control her breathing until she no longer gasped for air, and she swiped at the offending tears on her cheeks. Only then did Celes realize that she had left a rather large stain of salt water on the front of Lucille's fine button down shirt.

"S-sorry ab-bout your sh-shirt," she hiccupped. Lucille glanced down at it and chuckled.

"That's the third time you've gotten me wet, Celes. But it's fine."

Celes' lips curved again, into a stronger grin this time. Lucille set her back, hands resting on her shoulders, and cast his piercing, blue-violet gaze over her.

"Better?"

She nodded. Her cheeks had remained dry after she wiped the last of her tears away. The chanteur smiled widely and hugged her.

"It will be alright, Celes," he murmured. "You'll see."

"Hey! You find the brat?"

Celes leapt away from Lucille as though burned. Lucille just looked up calmly at the sound of Kohaku's voice, and his thundering steps through the underbrush. Moments later he broke out into their little clearing, bits of leaf and twig caught in his brown hair. Flushing dark pink, Celes swiped at the tears still lingering on her face.

"Shut up Kohaku!" snapped Celes.

"Yeah, you found her," he growled. "Then get a move on. You can't hang out here all night."

"We're coming, Kohaku," said Lucille with a smile.

The violinist snorted, then turned on his heel and walked back the way he had come. He had just barely gotten out of sight when there was a massive rustling noise, followed by a loud _thump,_ and he cursed loudly.

"Damn tree roots," he snarled.

Celes laughed in spite of herself, and Lucille joined in.

"Come on. We'd best be heading back," said the chanteur, holding out his arm.

Hesitantly, Celes placed a hand on his offered elbow, and followed him back to the campsite.

For now, she would be Eles. She would be the young boy who should never have survived the Guignol attack. The pianist in a group of criminal musicians. But sooner or later, she knew what Lucille said would have to pass. She would have to release her brother, and become Celes for good once more. But not yet. Not yet…


End file.
